How Much You Mean To Me
by LaceInPink
Summary: "...or we would show one another, like right now, how important we really are to one another by our actions. How much loosing one another could hurt the other." 16 hours filled with worrying over Barbara hits Dick Grayson hard. T for swearing and kissing!


_**My first fanfic from Young Justice! So I've had this unhealthy obsession with Dick & Babs since the first episode she arrived in. **_

_**They're 15/16 yrs. old here and Babs is just a few months into her training to be Batgirl.**_

_**Enjoy and Review!**_

"You think you'll be ok, Barb?" Fred asked from the front seat of the police car. He turned around to meet my eyes with a concerned and worried look that instantly filled me with guilt. I sighed deeply, I hated making people worry, having to have people watch over me like I'm some sort of child. My problems were mine and mine alone.

These moments were where I wish I could be Batgirl all the time. Batgirl never had to give anyone an answer, Batgirl was _never _weak, and Batgirl would have made sure none of this would have happen or at least could have saved her self and others a whole lot of tr

I really didn't feel like making the decision on whether I'm fine or not right now, but I wasn't going to lie to Fred's face. So I mustered the best fake smile I could and waved weakly to Fred as I stepped out of the car, hoping he'd drive off without question. He gave me one last, uneven glance as I got out of the car before he said, "Maybe I should ask your dad to send someone-". He never finished his sentence. I had slammed the car door shut on him, sighed deeply, and walked away from the sidewalk and in to my house, taking huge strides.

I felt the regret from my actions almost instantly and I frowned. I didn't mean to act so rudely to Fred. He was just trying to help, I know. But, I don't know, I…I was just over thinking about it right now. The last thing I wanted right now was to be alone.

No training could have prepared me to get kidnapped and interrogated for 16 hours as _Barbara Gordon_ and not Batgirl. I felt like a deer caught in headlights as soon as I realized that the cape and the cowl were nowhere in sight. There were no guidelines, no rules to follow when the mask wasn't on. I was caught off guard and I was weak. More than anything, I was ashamed. Ashamed of the fear and worry my stupid mistakes caused the people that love me the most. They're all I have.

'_Dick_…' I thought. I remembered the look he gave me when he and Batman saved me. He looked so worried, so scared for me, and it was my entire fault. He must be furious at me…

My throat ached as I felt the familiar burn behind my eyes. I quickly locked the front door and ran upstairs into my bathroom. I repeated the same procedure on this door and turned myself towards to mirror and gaped at my reflection. If I had felt weak before I had seen my reflection, it was no comfort to me that I most definitely looked weak. I was still in my school uniform from yesterday (minus the sweater that must have gotten lost along the way) but the once starch white oxford shirt was now wrinkled and stained from the dirt and muck from the warehouse floor and a bits of blood. My skin was still the porcelain color, but it too was dirty and marked with rope burn. My hair was just a plain mess. I think it was in a ponytail yesterday… but now it was just loose, tangled, and frizzy.

But I think above all… my eyes bothered me the most. When I would go on my small, training missions as Batgirl, I would always have my mask on, so my eyes remained untouched and would still shine with the same youthful blue they were when I was Barbara Gordon. But now, they were filled with exhaustion and stress making the once sky blue look almost 2 shades darker.

I instinctively lifted my hand to wipe my cheekbone of a stray tear, but I forgot the bruise taking form there and hissed. I shook my head, stripped my clothes, and jumped in the shower. I sighed slowly as the hot water hit my body, my shoulders relaxing as the steam filled my lungs. For some reason, showers were the best place to think. It was like magic. I cleaned myself of the dirt and oil that had found it's way in to my skin and hair and the blood from my small wounds. I took this time to inspect my bruises and small cuts. There was nothing major except for one huge, hideous, dark purple bruise that basically coated my right hipbone. I winced remembered the pain that had coursed through my body when those bastards had thrown me on the hard, paved floor, I guess my hip had taken most of the blow. Rather that than my head, right?

I was in the shower until all the hot water got wasted up (45 minutes to be exact) and hesitantly stepped out. The shower did help, but I still felt a little out of it.

I took my time towel drying and combing my hair in to a messy bun in the steam filled bathroom until the heat became too overwhelming and I stepped out in a towel. On my way to my room, I placed my clothes in the hamper and grabbed the first aid kit.

The first thing I noticed when I entered my dark room was the amount of moonlight coming in from my open balcony window. I instantly panicked. My hands tightened around my towel and blood raced to my head, but the moment I caught a glimpse of the back of a dark mop of hair and a blowing cape leaning over the balcony railing, my heart swelled and I was filled with instant relief.

It's honestly hilarious how Dick Grayson had this affect on me, even if I was butt naked with nothing on but a towel while he was right outside my window. "Don't worry," He interuppted my thoughts, still facing the city streets below, "I won't turn around…even though I've seen more of you when we were younger." He finished, teasingly.

There goes the blush…I quickly grabbed the first clothes my hands could grab and dressed myself. "Yeah well... things are different now, Dick." I said, ducking my head to hide my blush. "You can turn around now." I told him as I walked up behind him and leaned against the pain of the glass door. I felt my oversized lilac sweater shift off my shoulder and I crossed my arms.

He turned around to look at me with a small smile and said, "Yeah… a long time ago."

He looked over my slowly and he frowned when his eyes caught sight of the cut on my exposed shoulder. He reached out and softly caressed the cut. My gaze followed his fingers and I shivered. I looked back up at his masked eyes and said, "Hey, come on. I'm fine…"

He looked back up at me darkly and said in a hard voice, "No. You're not." He walked past me, our arms brushing harshly as he walked into my room with this dark aura around him.

I sighed loudly and followed him. He instantly turned on me, breathing harshly, his gloved hands cupped my jaw and he held my face to his, our foreheads leaning against one another. I could feel his breath on my lips and I looked with wide eyes to his mask. "I'm sorry," he said in a strangled voice, still breathing harshly, "I should have been there sooner, I shoulder have protected you, I'm-"

"Dick. Stop." I said in a stern warning tone. This wasn't right. This wasn't his fault and it never was. He was my hero tonight, like he was everyday. I never blamed him for those 16 hours. No one did. But still, he went on, his arms shaking, his chest contracting deeply with every rough breath as he went on, apologizing and blaming himself. "Richard, stop!"

"No! Don't act like this was nothing, Barbara! It was you that was taken yesterday-the girl behind the mask. Not Batgirl. You were gone and missing for 16 hours with no traces, no weapons, _nothing_!"

"And you don't think I know that? I made a mistake, okay? But it's not your fault, Dick. It's not and it never was."

His held his breath for a second and his hands loosened on my jaw and placed them on my elbows. He dug his head into my neck and I played with the hairs on the nape of his neck while he tried to regulate his breathing.

I was used to this kind of affection from him. It was nothing new, really. Dick and I had this…relationship that wasn't really a relationship. We both knew that we cared for one another a lot, but with high school and training (for me)/crime fighting (for him), we hadn't really made it anything more than really good friends... with benefits.

We didn't use one another as a release for our teenaged hormones. Our acts were genuine and we made it a point to control our hormones as best as we could around one another, which we'd been doing a great job of. Dick didn't need to kiss me to show me he cared… so he never did. But that doesn't mean I don't want him to.

I'm not sure when it started but I remember nearing the end of our 8th grade year we had expressed (through stutters and blushes on my behalf and an amused smile on his) how we felt for one another and we left it at that. From there we'd hold hands, have had our fair share of fights (which sometimes would lead to intense sparing sessions), have had spent Saturday nights at the Manor wrapped up in one another's arms, cuddling while watching re-runs of Whose Line Is It Anyway, or we would show one another, like right now, how important we really are to one another by our actions. How much loosing one another could hurt the other.

He looked back up at me slowly, a determined look on his face as his hands went back up to my face and he looked me in the eyes and muttered, "Don't move". He licked his lips and he started leaning down, but it was too slow for me. I went to meet him half way, but he pulled back just a centimeter. "Let me do this…" he whispered, his breath tickling my lips.

My heart hammered in my chest and I just stared at him, the anxiety almost suffocating me. I looked at his face, searching for his eyes. He went to kiss me again but it was me who leaned back this time. "Babs, you're killing me here." He said, again in a hushed tone, not wanting to ruin the moment completely.

"I'm not sure how I feel about kissing Robin…" I said slowly and quietly.

His brows lowered in confusion and I took this time to trail my fingertips up his face and under his mask. Slowly, I peeled it off and the corners of my mouth instantly upturned when blue met blue, "But I know I want to kiss Richard Grayson."

He chuckled softly, smiled at me softly, and for the third time, in an achingly slow pace, he lowered his lips down to mine. I let the mask slip from my grip and put my hands on his biceps and squeezed…he had nice biceps, okay?

His hands traveled softly down to waist and tightened around my frame, deepening the kiss. My breath hitched in my throat as I let out strangled scream. He pulled apart from me and his hands grabbed the hem of my sweater and lifted it up, revealing that nasty bruise on my hip.

"Holy crap, Babs…" he muttered, while inspecting the bruise. He removed his gloves and utility belt and then he continued to softly touch it with the pads of his fingers. I bit my lip and squirmed, disappointed that the moment while was ruined while trying to pull my sweater back down. He stopped me and looked at me.

"Come on Babs, you got to let me see it…" he said, placing his hands on my exposed stomach and the other under the bruise, on the elastic of my pajama pants. His hands were a little cold and I blushed. I nodded slowly while I looked him in the eyes. He grinned slightly, but worriedly and gave me a peck on the chin. He sat himself down on the cushioned bench connected to the inside of my window so he would be somewhat leveled with my hips. I put my hands on his as he pulled my shirt up a bit higher and my pants a few centimeters down until he saw the whole bruise. He traced it with the pad of his ring finger and pressed a feather light kiss to the bottom of it. I shivered and bit my lip from the small amount of pain that it caused me, but I was touched by his display of affection.

"Where'd you put the first aid kit you walked in with?" He said, standing up, walking around my dark room.

I chuckled, holding my shirt up just a few centimeters above my navel. "Nothing gets passed you, does it? It's on my desk."

5 minutes later ointment was applied to my hip and Dick insisted in wrapping my whole waste with gauze. He told me it was to create another barrier so he could hold me, but something told me he just wanted to touch my exposed skin. He's a teenaged boy with teenaged boy hormones. I'm allowed to assume these things!

"I was worried sick, you know?" He told me as we sat faced to one another closely on the window seat/bench. We had been sitting Indian styled but we missed the body heat we gave one anther, so we spread our legs out, mine bent behind his back as he faced me, and his straight out behind mine as I faced him. He squeezed a pea size amount of ointment onto his finger and he placed his other hand on my check as he applied the cold, white paste onto my slightly bruised cheek. "I couldn't sleep that whole night. Bruce and Alfred told me to go to bed but… I just couldn't. Not knowing where you were or who had you really put me in a grove."

"I'm sorry." I apologized, leaning into his touch. I removed his hands from my face and took the tube in my hands and squeezed the same amount onto my finger. He looked at me, a bit taken back. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his (wonderful, glorious) bicep and pulled the costume sleeve up harshly so I could see his poorly bandaged wound.

I tried to take off the slipping, bloody gauze but he stopped me. "_Babs!_ Leave it alone! It_ hurts_." He was such a whiner.

"I wonder why, Boy Blunder. You've always sucked at dressing wounds." With that I removed the gauze and make a disgusted face. "Dick! Seriously? Did you even clean it out?"

"No! I was kind of in a hurry to finish things back at the warehouse with the police so I could check up on you. Fred came back and told your dad how you shouldn't be home alone after that whole ordeal, but your dad was kinda busy with interrogations and investigations so Bruce offered for Robin to go and at least watch over you." He said, watching me wipe the wound with an alcohol wipes. "Besides," he continued, "I'd rather have you do it for me. You're better at it… and it's cute seeing you worry."

I glanced up at him from under my eyelashes and snorted. He grinned at me sweetly, as I placed a fresh butterfly bandage on it **(a/n not a butterfly design, the type of band-aid)**, making sure it was secured. "All done." I said softly.

"Aw come on! No kiss to make it better?" He said teasingly.

I rolled eyes and pressed my lips onto the bandage, while I kept his eye contact. "There." I said softly.

He reached out and grabbed me from under my thighs while he pulled me to lie on his chest in between his legs, as he lied back on the wall behind him. He was awfully gentile the whole time and was wary of my hip. I wrapped my arms around his waist and we just lied there, looking at one another. He placed a hand behind my head, below drooping bun and I sighed.

"Thank you." I said, not exactly sure what I thanked him for. But I knew there were so many things. I allowed him to pull my head towards his while he smiled. He pecked my lips once, then twice. He started pulling away but I leaned up to brush my lips against his, signaling him to kiss me again.

He was about to comply before he pulled back abruptly at the sound of a key in a lock. My eyes widened as I leaned backwards looking down at the front door from my window. "Daddy's home!" I whispered harshly, climbing off him.

Dick jumped off the bench while pulling on his gloves and utility belt. He was half way out the window before I grabbed his arm and pulled him down to my level. I put my hand to his jaw, holding him in place as I put his mask back in place. "What would I do with you, Babs?" He asked, grinning as I smoothed the edges of the mask.

"Not entirely sure, _Robin._" I smiled. I placed my hand behind his neck and kissed him quickly.

"Seems to me you had no problem kissing Robin, Miss Gordon. You little tramp…" I pushed him out my window and onto the balcony and watched as he winked and dove off.


End file.
